Trust Comes in Threes
by Shaye1106
Summary: "Only trust someone who can see these three things in you. The Sorrow behind your smile, the Love behind your anger, and the Reason behind your silence." A collection of drabbles and one-shots involving Happy and Toby. Most are prompts and Tumblr asks. Quintis.
1. Not Okay

_Quintis ~ 9 ~ "You know, it's okay to cry."_

_**Not Okay**_

The consistent clang of metal on metal was the only sound in competition with Toby's music. He had asked her to stay home today, for the two of them to process this recent development in the comfort of their home, but she simply walked out the door with her laptop strung over her back. He had already begged her to leave four times (with minimal injury he might add) but was risking serious wrench to face consequences for trying again.

Walking up to her workstation and eliciting no response, he maneuvered himself behind her and gently tapped her shoulder. She froze, the abrupt halt of the banging drawing everyone's attention, before steeling her resolve and carrying on. "Happy," Toby whispered, aware of everyone's wandering eyes. "Let's go home."

Scrunching up her nose and shaking his hand off her tense shoulder, Happy let out a grunt of frustration. "Leave it alone, Doc." But he was tired of playing games. The next time her arm swung up he grabbed her wrist. "What the hell!" In lieu of responding, Toby used his other hand to grab her arm and spin her around. He took in her frazzled state, carefully removing the potential weapon from her hands. They were shaking ever so slightly, but he knew no one besides him would likely notice.

"We're going home." It was simple, direct and although Happy wanted nothing more than to fight it, she had to admit she wasn't exactly opposed to the idea. He led her silently, his hands only moving to grab her bag and his hat, before bidding the team their goodbyes.

The seven minutes and thirty-three seconds it took to make it into their driveway felt like an eternity as the radio remained off and the tension continued to thicken. Without a word, Happy exited the truck and made her way inside, shedding her clothing on the way down the hall towards their bedroom. Toby was worried; Happy was neat to a fault when it came to their own home (she claimed she did it because the team often stopped by without announcing themselves but he knew it was because of growing up in foster homes with some of her unfortunate parental figures). She walked into the living room shortly, clothed in his faded red t-shirt and a pair of blue boxers, her hair hanging in waves down her back. Toby wrapped his arms around her slight frame as he joined her on the couch, allowing her to slide her legs over his lap and curl into his neck. "You know, it's okay to cry."

The words were spoken softly as he ran his fingers through her black tresses but they weren't calming. Happy's head shot up quickly, her eyes dark. "No it's not! It doesn't add up." She turned her head slightly, "It shouldn't be this way."

Toby tipped her chin towards his, placing a light peck on her lips. "It does add up. You're worried because of the childhood you had and the parents you missed out on. Now that has you doubting yourself as a mother."

"Maybe mother." Her eyes shone with unshed tears as did Toby's with her proclamation.

"Do you not want this baby?" He asked, rubbing small circles on her shoulders. His only answer was silence. "It's okay to say how you feel."

"It isn't okay! It's not okay cry either," Happy was scrambling to her feet within seconds, pacing the room as she hugged her arms to her chest. The tears had already begun however and now there was no stopping them. Damn that stupid shrink and his ability to see right through her.

Toby stood to wrap his arms around her waist, holding her to him no matter her struggle to push away, until she finally resigned herself to laying her head on his chest. "It's alright. You're scared and I'm scared." He pulled away slightly in order to meet her eyes. "We didn't plan this. We don't have many happy memories to look back on. You can say that you don't want this."

Her hands were now cradling her tiny stomach but Toby knew enough not to mention it. He may have always pictured them with children but he was also aware that it might never happen. He wasn't going to force her into anything. Happy took her time answering, evening out her labored breathing and licking her tear-laden lips. "Do you think we can do this?" She whispered.

The hopeful look in her eyes and the way she hugged her stomach allowed him to answer honestly. "Yeah Hap, I really do." When he wiped the tear tracks from her cheeks and laid a kiss to her forehead, he knew they were going to be alright. And when she hugged him back, a bone crushing embrace despite her tiny stature, he knew that she was going to be happy too.

_**Thanks for reading my first Quintis fic! Please review :-)**_


	2. The Probability Theory

_Quintis ~ 6 ~ "It wasn't supposed to happen like that."_

_**The Probability Theory**_

"It wasn't supposed to happen like that."

"No shit, Sherlock," Happy griped, pressing an icepack to her swollen cheek. "If you didn't already have a broken arm, I would've done it by now."

"Hey!" Toby shifted his head from the couch pillow to see her more easily. "It could've worked."

"Chances were slim to none." She said as she pushed the tangled mess of hair out of her eyes.

"I have to say-"

"I told you-"

"We agreed that-"

"Sly!" Both called, abandoning the helpless circle they were engaging in.

Removing his hand from the chalkboard, Sylvester nodded in Happy's direction. "Statistically speaking Toby, Happy's right. There was only a 5.32 percent chance of your plan establishing satisfactory results."

"What do you mean? Psychologically speaking only one in ten people have Intermittent Explosive Disorder and considering we approached a woman, the risk of hostility was reduced to five percent." Toby tipped his hat, daring to look both his friends in the eyes. "I'm the doctor here." Shifting his hands to rest over his stomach, he continued. "Did either of you go to Harvard Medical School?"

Happy, although contemplating further damage, settled for punching his arm, smirking at Toby's small yelp of pain. "You're forgetting that you approached a woman in a bar which significantly increases the probability of IED."

"But-" Toby raised his finger, prompting a pause in the conversation, only for Sylvester to continue as if uninterrupted.

"You also brought Happy with you."

"Meaning what?" Happy turned sharply towards the statistician. As she waited for an answer, she raised her eyebrows, only losing focus at the sound of Toby's snicker.

"Well putting two angry people in one room never solved anything." Sly commented, turning back to his board as if that would allow him to avoid Happy's glare.

"So it's agreed? Happy is actually the one to blame?" Toby sat up straighter. "Because my plan was on point." Sylvester merely rolled his eyes, safely hidden from view. "Ow, my costals," Toby yelped, cradling his ribs.

"And that is why, in the law of total probability, your plan was likely to fail."

_**Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think...**_


	3. Lobster?

_Quintis #16: "I took a pregnancy test."_

_**Lobster?**_

"Special treatment? To what do I owe the pleasure, Mrs. Curtis?" Toby shoots a smile in Happy's direction as he motions to the gift set before him.

"Watch it, Doc." She shoves a thin, rectangular box towards him. "And it's Quinn-Curtis," she corrects. "Why can't you just open the damn thing without hounding me?"

"Maybe because we only give presents on Christmas and anniversaries. You know because _someone_ has a rule about that." He chuckles at her glare before moving the box to his ear and shaking it.

"It wouldn't be a rule if _someone_ didn't spend money at every store he visits. Now will you hurry up." This is nerve-wracking enough as it is. No need to delay the process.

Finally untying the box's ribbon, Toby lifts the lid and scrunches his eyebrows at what appears to be a tiny crimson bib. "If you're saying I eat like a baby, I take offense. But nice going with the Harvard design." Holding it to his sternum, Toby continues, "We could get lobster…"

"Numbnuts." The words are forced but a trickle of mirth lurks behind the venom. "It's not for you." Pulling out a little white stick, she waves it in the air. "I took a pregnancy test."

**_Just a little drabble. Thanks for reading. Please let me know what you think!_**


	4. Hearing and Feeling

It's been a year. A year of good decisions (for the most part)- no gambling, drinking, or calling the ex-fiancé. But it's all too close. It's all closing in and he can't breathe. It isn't supposed to be this way; children shouldn't lose their parents. Attempting to push the thought from his mind, Toby picked up another shot of tequila. _"I could've done more." _Another toss of his head. _"I should have seen it coming." _Another raw burn coursing down his throat.

"Come home with me," Happy says, legs shoulder width apart, a sad grimace marring her features.

"What?" He's startled to say the least. Or hallucinating. The latter may be more plausible.

"Come home with me," she repeats, dragging him to his feet after dropping (his) twenty on the counter. "You're a mess."

"I thought you said not to call you." He pats his pocket and locates his cell, pulling it out in order to attempt to read the call log in his drunken haze.

She shakes her head, supporting his unstable body on the way to her truck, calling a thanks to the bartender. Once she settles him in the passenger seat, Happy speaks again. "You're thinking too loudly." She hopes for a chuckle, a smile at least, but all she receives is a blank stare and thrumming fingers. "It is not your fault."

Toby stares out the window, his head resting upon the cool glass. He's intoxicated and minutes away from vomiting what little resides in his stomach but he can't look away from the whirring images. Because no matter the day, the loss, the tragedy, the world never ceases its movement. And he's stuck; he's helplessly along for the miserable ride.

"You couldn't have known."

He snaps. "I'm a doctor. A Harvard-trained behaviorist and I failed to see the signs." He huffs and the sound is tired, broken. "And now she's gone. She is gone and she took her husband with her." Happy reaches for his hand and squeezes gently before returning it to its place at the wheel. But even the brevity of the moment cannot take away the strength she bestows upon him or detract from the love she is trying to give. "That child is parentless because of me. Please, don't try to tell me otherwise."

"Okay." Happy nods a she pulls into her parking space. Maybe he can't hear the words but she will be damned if she doesn't attempt to let him feel them.


	5. One Day, You'll Be Fine

"You'll fall in love again," Toby murmurs. "You'll fall in love ten times over."

"But she was _the _one. You know?" Mallory cries, leaning into her father's shoulder.

"Maybe she was," Toby concedes as he wraps his arm further around her limp form. "Maybe she will be again."

Pulling back with a sniffle, Mallory chokes out another sob. "How do you know?"

"I don't know. I'm sorry, Princess, but I don't." He takes another breath. "It's up to her. And you."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you can choose not to give up." He wipes away a tear. "Did I ever tell you how long I spent chasing your mother?"

Mallory chuckles. "She's mentioned it once or twice."

"What have I mentioned?" Happy asks before sitting down on the couch.

"Dad being a hopeless romantic."

"Oh, that." Happy smirks, but, nevertheless, reaches out to cup his cheek.

"You chose me," Toby says. She nods. "Any regrets?"

"Nope." Happy turns toward her daughter. "You don't want to live with regrets."

Mallory sniffles. "What if it's too late?"

"Things have a way of working themselves out." Toby smiles.

"Mmhmm." Happy presses a kiss to Mallory's forehead. "If she makes you happy, don't wait."

"Mom." Mallory turns. "Dad." She steadies her breathing. "I don't want to fall in love again." She stands up. "I have to go make a call."


	6. Strong

"You don't have to be so strong all the time." She doesn't meet his eyes, just grips the automotive magazine a little bit tighter. "It's okay to be scared."

Sparing a glance in his direction, Happy huffs. "There's nothing to worry about. Shit happens. He's going to be fine."

"Hap-"

"Doc, give it a rest." She softens her tone. "I'm fine."

"You don't look fine."

"Well I am."

"Talk to me," Toby whispers as he moves to fill the seat next to her. "Please." He wraps his arm around her shoulders.

She avoids his gaze, keeps her breathing level, tries desperately to focus on the article at hand. But it's no use. He's already wormed his way into her heart...and, to be perfectly honest, she's let him.

Happy feels the terror, the anguish fill up inside her chest; she feels it claw at her heart and strangle her lungs until suddenly she can't hold back any longer. He brushes his lips against her forehead as a quiet, choking sob breaks through her defenses. "It's all my fault."

"It's not-"

"Yes, it is! He's in the hospital because of me." The words are muffled as Happy buries her head in Toby's chest. "He could die and it's all my fault. He could die."

"Ralph is not going to die. Do you hear me?" Toby lifts her chin. "He's going to live because you caught it."

"I should have seen it sooner." Happy shudders. "I was the one watching him. I was supposed to know."

"You thought he was coming down with the flu. A lot of people think that," Toby says.

"I'm a genius; I should know these things."

"Hey, look at me." He smooths his fingers over her tear-stained cheeks. "You're not a doctor and meningitis isn't something you see everyday." He kisses her forehead. "Bringing Ralph here when you did is what saved his life."

She sniffles, wrapping herself further into his embrace. "You sure?"

"Of course. Harvard MD." He chuckles. Sobering, he adds, "I believe in you. You did everything right."

"If you say so." She gives up without a fight, much too exhausted to do more than lay her head against his chest.

"I say so."


	7. To See You

He stares at her often, she only comments when others are around, but he knows she doesn't really mind. He's met with empty threats and thinly veiled promises yet he knows she's only playing the game. They push and they pull, it's just the way they are. But it's more than her appearance or the fixation he's always seemed to have with her mouth. More than the way it curls into tiny smiles and pulls gently when she decides to be a bit sassy. It's more than the way her hair splays over his pillow even though she swears up and down she's not a cuddler, more than the way her legs seem to gravitate to hip distance no matter the outfit.

It's the way she is able to be two things, two people, two ideas, two types of love all at once. How the same hands that can cause black and blue marks can also move so precisely, so quickly when it comes to metal and machines. The way she wields a blow torch while decked out in skinny jeans and rings lining her fingers.

She takes her coffee black with one sugar, bitter and sweet intertwined. Other than in her coffee, she loves sweets- ice cream in particular- and always gives him a genuine smile when he treats her to the small diner with the best milkshakes in the city.

Kids are her own sweet spot as much as she denies it to herself and everyone around her. He sees her eyes light up as she explains a new project to Ralph and fog over after a particularly trying foster home case. He sees the way children reach out to her too. She's the cool aunt, the fun friend but he knows she could be more, that deep down she wants more. He knows that, despite her past, she is capable of being an amazing parent. Maybe one day there will even be a mini version of themselves. A little girl half-him, half-her, with glittering eyes so deep and hands small but still strong.

So as he runs his fingers through her ebony locks, the sun glinting slightly off her naked form, white sheets bunched sloppily near her waist, he can't help but smile. "See something you like?"

Even though her murmur catches him off guard, he answers swiftly, "Yeah, yeah I really do." He stares at her often, she only comments when others are around, but he knows she doesn't really mind. He's met with empty threats and thinly veiled promises yet he knows she's only playing the game. They push and they pull, it's just the way they are. But it's more than her appearance or the fixation he's always seemed to have with her mouth. More than the way it curls into tiny smiles and pulls gently when she decides to be a bit sassy. It's more than the way her hair splays over his pillow even though she swears up and down she's not a cuddler, more than the way her legs seem to gravitate to hip distance no matter the outfit.

It's the way she is able to be two things, two people, two ideas, two types of love all at once. How the same hands that can cause black and blue marks can also move so precisely, so quickly when it comes to metal and machines. The way she wields a blow torch while decked out in skinny jeans and rings lining her fingers.

She takes her coffee black with one sugar, bitter and sweet intertwined. Other than in her coffee, she loves sweets- ice cream in particular- and always gives him a genuine smile when he treats her to the small diner with the best milkshakes in the city.

Kids are her own sweet spot as much as she denies it to herself and everyone around her. He sees her eyes light up as she explains a new project to Ralph and fog over after a particularly trying foster home case. He sees the way children reach out to her too. She's the cool aunt, the fun friend but he knows she could be more, that deep down she wants more. He knows that, despite her past, she is capable of being an amazing parent. Maybe one day there will even be a mini version of themselves. A little girl half-him, half-her, with glittering eyes so deep and hands small but still strong.

So as he runs his fingers through her ebony locks, the sun glinting slightly off her naked form, white sheets bunched sloppily near her waist, he can't help but smile. "See something you like?"

Even though her murmur catches him off guard, he answers swiftly, "Yeah, yeah I really do."


	8. Please, Not Yet

"Fanboy," Happy shakes her head as she walks away, leaving Cabe to his movie.

"Hey, you gotta second?" Toby walks up behind her and places his hand on her back. Turning her head sharply, first towards him and then towards Cabe, she lowers her voice.

"What are you doing?" This wasn't on the list of 'work appropriate' activities. At least not now when they have to watch every move, every gesture, every word spoken.

"With what?"

"Hand, back, yours, mine," she says peering over, yet again, to where Cabe had been standing.

Toby widens his eyes at the implication however, once he realizes Cabe has long since left the warehouse, he relaxes. "No one's here." He leans in to press his lips to hers, just a quick peck as he's not willing to risk any more. Happy wants to go slow and he is supporting that. She doesn't want everyone to know about their dates and relationship status just yet; not when she's still getting used to the idea herself. It wouldn't do to be getting cozy in the garage where anyone can walk in at anytime, especially when they have a job to do and are (as usual) behind schedule.

"Movie tonight?" Happy pulls back enough to look up into his eyes.

Wrapping his arms around her waist, he says, "It's on. My choice." She tentatively presses another kiss to his lips before jumping apart at the sound of the garage door being pulled open.

"What are you two doing?" Walter grumbles, exasperated. "We have to get to the conference."

"We're coming," Toby calls back, grinning slightly at the faint blush staining Happy's cheeks. Satisfied with his answer, Walter runs back to the van, shouting at them to 'hurry up' and 'get a move on.' Once in the clear, Toby turns to Happy. "Do you ever think we should just stop this?" He sees her pupils dilate and is quick to clarify his statement. "The sneaking around."

She releases a breath and kicks her boots a bit, wringing her hands all the while. _Too much, too soon_ is all that runs through her head. "I can't; not yet." Happy knows she's upsetting him and she wants to reassure him but the words just aren't coming. "I want…us." He touches her arm lightly, giving her an encouraging smile. "But I don't want people telling me what to think. Or asking questions." He wraps her in a tight embrace, kissing the top of her head before they have to part for the next several hours, for he knows her heart. He knows that she needs time to process this development on her own. "So, _Fatal Attraction_?" And then she knows too. That they're okay and that, by some miraculous twist of fate, they found more than friendship in this family of misfits.


	9. Bumpity Bump Bump

She had thought they'd thrown this out. Paige wearing it was enough; they didn't need to keep it as a souvenir. She shifted, grunting at the slight weight of the artificial bump. She swore quietly, rubbing her already tender back at the pull of straps. Next time, she was designing this thing because damn it, the guys made it too heavy. Granted, they were trying to mask the fake hands and various supplies for their mission in the UN, but still. It was too damn heavy. Sighing, she pulled her maternity shirt, courtesy of Paige, over the bump, smoothing the edges. "Why do you have this again?"

Paige raised an eyebrow. "Because I was pregnant." She spared a smile. "You know, with Ralph. The genius to the group of geniuses."

"It's team of geniuses," she corrected, but she smirked at the sass regardless. "And I know that. I meant why do you still have this?" She ruffled the flowy, blue peasant top around, checking for possible issues. But it seemed fine, good enough to fool the general public as long as nobody touched her stomach. And nobody, Happy announced earlier that day, better do so unless they wanted a set of broken appendages. "Ralph's thirteen."

Paige handed Happy a cardigan. "Maternity clothes are expensive." She sighed. "And I already bought them so why would I waste the money by throwing them away?"

Happy shrugged. "You could donate them." Paige huffed, tossing a pair of black flats Happy's way. Happy grimaced, but nevertheless she slipped them on. After a few seconds, Happy straightened. "Oh," she said, finally making eye contact with Paige. "In case you want another one?"

Paige shrugged. "I know it's weird to want another kid when your first is a teenager," she shuddered at the thought of how much he'd grown, "but, I don't know. Maybe." She chuckled nervously. "One day."

Happy nodded. "Logically, it almost makes sense." Happy grabbed her glasses, equipped with video and sound recording. She continued, "You had Ralph when you were young. You like kids." She grimaced at her reflection in the mirror. "I am not a glasses person." She shook her head. "And you and Walter are-"

"Alright, enough of this." Paige turned her head as a blush started to climb her chest. "We have a job to do."

Happy smirked. "Cool it, Dineen. Sometimes it's just fun to mess with you."

Paige glared, but there was a certain twinkle in her eyes. "You know, I could mess with you, too."

Happy shook her head, then began to lead the way out of Walter's loft and down the stairs. "Not a chance."

Just as Paige was about to retort, Walter swept in with facts about the case and Happy's new identity. "Nora Johnson. Thirty. Married to Steve Johnson. Lives in downtown LA. And has a baby on the way."

"No kidding," Happy said, shifting once more to find a comfortable position. "This," she gestures to the plaster, "sucks."

"But you look so cute with a baby bump!" Toby chimed in from her left. She turned to glare at him, eyebrows raised in annoyance. "Right. Work." Happy nodded. "Shutting up now." She gave him a tiny smile.

"Anyway, once you enter the department, you'll need to make yourself known. We know our perp targets pregnant women, and you'll have to make a scene."

She nodded, tuning in and out of Walter's prepping, already having read the files herself. She knew it was protocol and he was supposed to be her handler for the mission, but that didn't mean she couldn't engage her mind elsewhere. "Alright?" Walter asked, shutting the file folder and tucking it under his arm.

She nodded, and Walter and Paige began the walk to the unmarked car, leaving Happy with the rest of the team for a few more minutes. Sylvester gave her a thumbs up before returning to his desk and Cabe gave her a strong hug, whispering in her ear to 'be safe, kiddo.'

"So," Toby said, once they were both alone. "Be careful." He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her as close as possible with the bump between them. Leaning down, he pressed a tender kiss to her forehead.

"I'll be fine." She said, but it was softly, so softly-she was worried, too. "We'll be okay."

He smiled so brightly it reached his eyes. "You better be. Remind me again why we're keeping this a secret?"

She turned her eyes downward, imagining the tiny bump hidden beneath the larger mold. "Three months. It's standard, right? And with my history-"

He moved swiftly, molding his lips to hers, halting her words and her thoughts simultaneously. He was slow, savoring their last few moments of connection, before he pulled away, resting his forehead on hers. "You will be fine. Our baby will be fine." He was sure, confident, and it immediately made her feel more at ease. "And yes, the standard is three months, but with our work…" He sighed, shaking his head. "We'll tell them when you're ready. Just don't do anything stupid." He grinned. "I know you're a badass, but take it down a notch for the next seven months."

She nodded. "I love you."

Pulling away, he shot her another smile. "I love you, too. See you soon."

She waved goodbye once more as she made her way to the door, only to be met by a grinning Paige. "Everything ready?" Happy asked. Paige nodded. "What's got you so happy?"

"Oh, just confirmation that I can mess with you." She giggled. "I was right and deserve to gloat."

"What are you talking about?" Happy asked, walking out the door with Paige trailing close behind.

"Just call it a mother's intuition."


	10. Happy, Shiny People

**_This turned out significantly longer than planned. But, the muse will go where it goes. There is a trigger warning for OC character death._**

_"Being a family means you are a part of something very wonderful. It means you will love and be loved for the rest of your life." ~ Lisa Weedn_

* * *

She doesn't know how this became her life. She never expected, even in her wildest dreams, that she could live true to her name. As a child she lost hope for the good. Her dreams consisted more of growing up in one home than of growing up with a loving family. She wished for a job to pay the bills, not anything more. She wished to not be teased, but not to be loved. In her mind it just wasn't in the cards. And never did she wish for a child so bright, so full of life. Sure, she'd considered the possibility, but it was never more than a penny in a wishing well: an illogical and inefficient fantasy.

_**June 6th, 1991: Age 2**_

"Happy," Patrick says, his voice lighter than she's heard it in a while. "I have a surprise for you."

"A suwprise?" Happy asks, toddling over to her father, a tiny smile on her face.

"Yes, a surprise." He picks her up, moving her to his hip, pushing her black locks out of her eyes. He really needs to get better at this whole hair thing, he grumbles. He walks her into her bedroom, flipping on the lights before walking over to a sheet-covered object.

"It's a little house." Happy hiccups, her tiny body wiggling out of Patrick's grip.

"Now how do you know that?" He grins, laughing at his bright little girl. She shrugs. "Not gonna tell me your secrets, huh?" He places her on the ground and ruffles her hair. He pulls off the sheet, haphazardly tossing it out of the way, quickly enough to get a good look at his daughter's face. She's not exactly smiling, but she has a look of fierce determination on her face-her eyebrows are slightly furrowed, her mouth puckered, her head tilting ever so slightly.

He asks, still in the process of decoding her reaction, "It's a doll house. Do you like it?"

Happy nods. "My house." She walks closer, sticking her head inside the tiny rooms, earning a chuckle from Patrick. "I like it." She sits down, running her fingers over the faux carpet and lifting up a tiny doll. "Who is this?"

"The family that lives in the house." Patrick points to the figurines. "There's a mommy and a daddy and a baby."

Happy doesn't say anything, but she places the doll back at the kitchen table. She moves on to the living room, investigating the little trinkets-couches and a television for starters-her eyes still alight with curiosity.

And, as Patrick looks on, he can't help but feel that familiar tug. His heart crying out, his happiness in this moment clouded by grief. _Grace would've loved this. She would've loved you._ But he doesn't say it. He can't say it. She doesn't deserve the burden of his pain. So, instead, he kisses the top of her head and tells her he'll be in the kitchen. She mumbles something that he thinks is more so directed at the house than at him, and he takes it as his cue to leave. Maybe, just maybe, the six-pack would help mitigate the pain.

When he leaves, she carefully lifts up the dolls once more and hides them in a little box under her bed. "It's time for conswuction," Happy tells them. "I'll get you later."

Except she doesn't get the chance. Once she arrives at the group home, she never plays with a doll again.

_**December 14th, 1997: Age 8**_

"Good afternoon, children," Ms. Waldi walks into the classroom with a smile on her face. "So today we have visitors. Prospective parents who are looking for that very special child to help them form a family." Happy grins. _Maybe this will be my chance._ She wants to be loud, to be able to shout and laugh and jump up and down, but she forces herself to stay still. _They won't like you if you do that._ So she sits and continues to listen to the instructions. "So, best behavior. They will be watching." Ms. Waldi turns to Happy, a slight look of disdain marring her features. "And that means no wrenches, no ratchets." Happy deflates, turning over her nut. "A proper toy for a proper lady." She hands Happy a doll, complete with a dress and flowing blonde hair, and Happy just nods.

"I'll be better this time, Ms. Waldi." She means it, she really does, even if that means pretending to like dolls and playing make-believe games and being happy all the time. She can do it. She's trying.

"I'm sure you will be." The older woman walks out of the room, mentioning that she will be back shortly to lead the children into the common area.

"You're so lucky," the girl next to Happy, Rosa, says. Happy turns to her, confused. "That's a new toy," Rosa says, pointing to the doll. "Dolls are my favorite."

"Oh." Happy looks at the toy, turning it around and around in her small hands. She doesn't see the appeal. Looking to Rosa, she asks, "Do you want to play with it?" She extends her hand.

"Really?" Rosa accepts the toy, hugging it close to her chest. "Thank you!"

"It's okay." Happy folds her hands together to stop them from shaking nervously. "I don't really like dolls anyway."

"But they're so much fun." The little girl stands from her chair, spinning around with the doll. "You can play house."

"I know." Happy shrugs.

"My house before this," Rosa chatters excitedly as Happy recalls that Rosa has been in the system since infancy and, up until now, had lived with the same foster family for eight years, "had lots of dolls and toys. I liked to play house and doctor and pool with them. One day I'm gonna do that with my family." She nods her head resolutely. "What will you do?"

The question is innocent enough, but it fills Happy's stomach with dread. "Maybe I won't have a family."

"No, silly." Rosa puts her hand on her hip. "Everyone gots to get a family some time."

Happy nods, unsure but not in the mood to argue, when Ms. Waldi returns. "Alright, children. Let's go meet our guests!"

Later that night, with most of her friends missing-with mostly everyone missing-she resolves that she was right. Not everyone will be lucky enough to get a family after all.

_**August 28th, 2007: Age 18**_

She had accepted at an early age that her life would not amount to much. As far as she was concerned, it would be a life of her and her tools. That was enough-that had to be enough-in fact, it would have to amount to everything.

So when she is eighteen, living on her own and free of bouncing from group home and back again, she takes her lack of family in stride. It isn't until another woman, much softer than Happy, but strong in her intelligence and opinions, tries to knock down some of those walls so close to Happy's heart, that she ever considers anything different.

"I'm Jade," the young woman says, waving her hand with a friendly smile adorning her face.

Happy looks up from her schematics, but only for a second. She's one day into college and already she's being approached by the people-people, the ones who everyone can't help but like. _Don't they know I'm not like everyone else?_ Happy had grumbled to herself earlier in the day. _I knew this stuff when I was five._ But she didn't voice it: this college may be her ticket into a job, something that would pay the bills and fortify her as an intelligent and independent young woman. But seriously, she should've skipped a bunch of grades (and maybe she would have, had she stayed in one place long enough for her teachers to notice). Looking back down, Happy draws a forty-five degree angle for the roof.

This girl, though, Jade her name was, is not giving up. She takes a seat at Happy's table, resting her head on her hand. "That's an interesting schematic. What are you designing?"

Happy continues to draw; however, her interest is piqued. Most people think she's weird, mean, and too smart to talk to. Happy likes to think it is true, but it does make things more lonely.

"Is this based on colonial architecture?" Jade cranes her neck to see more. "Second Spanish period?"

Happy finally looks up, tucking her pencil behind her ear. "Yes." She squints her eyes. "How do you know so much about architecture?"

"I took a class." Jade shrugs. "It was an art history class. Some kind of special topic course." She smiles. "What about you?"

Happy contemplates hiding behind her work again before deciding that Jade isn't half bad. She could try to talk, even if it got her nowhere. "I'm a mechanical engineer. Physics. Math. Designing and building. That's my thing." She motions to the blueprints. "This is just a hobby. Something to keep my mind busy."

Jade nods. "You're very talented." She offers another smile. "What made you choose to come here?"

Happy takes a look around the quad, the bold letters of the college on the building ahead. "It's a long story."

"Want to get a coffee? I have all day."

Thinking it couldn't be that awful and that boy, did she need a coffee, Happy nods. "Sure." She stands, collecting her materials before neatly storing them in her bag. "I'm Happy, by the way."

"Nice to meet you, Happy."

And for the first time since she was two, Happy thinks there may be some good left in the world after all. She has a friend.

_**February 7th, 2008: Age 19**_

"It's going to be okay, Happy," Jade says, a tiny smile on her face.

Happy is sitting by her bedside, her hands gripping Jade's tightly. "Jade-" She looks from her girlfriend's pale skin, to the black circles under her eyes, to the blue tinge of her hands.

"You're going to be okay." Jade gives Happy's hands a small squeeze; it's all she can manage in her current state.

Happy sighs, her stomach still in knots. "What do you need?"

"Just for you to be here." And so they sit. They sit in the silence that is no longer calm. Happy tries to warm Jade's fingers as they wait. The nurses come in twice. The doctor once.

After what seems like forever, Jade turns her head to look into Happy's eyes. "Hey, don't worry about me, okay? I'm going to be fine." But Happy sees the pain hidden behind her eyes.

"Statistically-"

Jade rolls her eyes, a slight grin forming on her face. "I know you're a number person, but let's not think about that." She rubs her thumb over Happy's palm. "I'll be okay. Because no matter what happens, I had a good life. I got to be with you. I'm happy."

Happy wills herself to hold in the tears. This wasn't the way things were supposed to go. Not after she let down her walls. Not after she found someone who made her truly happy. And yet, here they were. In less than three hours, Jade would pass. And Happy would lock herself in a hospital supply closet and cry. Cry for everything she never had. Cry for everything she lost. Good things don't happen for Happy Quinn. So she leaves. She leaves her home, her school, her state. She runs to escape the pain of the memories.

_**November 29th, 2011: Age 21**_

"I can't let you do that," Happy says, hands on her hips.

"I don't have a choice, Happy." Walter turns toward his computer, typing another algorithm.

"Like hell you don't." Happy huffs. "Hack the system. Change the visa. Change your status."

"That's already illogical considering the fact that if I get caught, all of us are going to jail." Walter looks up and she is able to see the agitation in his eyes. "Besides, they already sent me notification. I'm on their radar now."

Happy slams her hands on his desk. "Find another way." She can't lose this, too. This ragtag team of geniuses. They're her home. And if she's not going to have a family of her own, she needs this. She needs something .

Then, she stiffens, standing up straighter. "Let's get married." After all, it won't matter for the future she has planned. Plus they would get to stay together, as a team. It's the best choice for all of them. Or, at least, it has to do.

_**December 25th, 2014: Age 27**_

She has a father. A real, living, breathing father who lives just fifteen minutes away from the garage. A father who, up until recently, has only caused her pain. But he knows.

"You look just like her. I knew who you were the first time you walked into my shop." He says it, voice tender, his nervousness evident. "After your mother died, I was lost. I hit the bottle. Hard. Still do. You were so special. Deserved better than me." She staring now, entranced by his confession. "I always loved you."

It's those words, so beautifully strung together, that send her mind into overdrive. Because he did love her. He did care about her. And he had tried to do what he thought was best. To give her a better family. One without a broken father. One that was whole and full of light. All too suddenly she's moving toward him, embracing him a hug tight enough to make breathing difficult. And as he holds on just as tight, she lets out a breathless laugh of relief.

She had a father. She has a father. She has a father and she has friends. It's almost too good to be true. But he's standing here, hugging her, his breath ragged against her hair, and she knows it's real.

_**May 5th, 2016: Age 28**_

Life goes on and life gets better. Or she likes to think it does. She knows that logically she should be cautious, and in some ways she is. She hides her past. She hides her true desires. However, on the other hand, she gives her heart. She dates Toby. She becomes an aunt to Ralph. She supports Sly and gives advice to Walter. She soon finds out that that is not enough.

She couldn't say yes to his proposal. She saw the signs. The hints. The direction their relationship was going in. But she couldn't open her mouth. She couldn't let him leave. She couldn't be the one to ruin her own happy ending. And yet, here she is.

"You broke my heart," he says, week after week.

And she gets it. She really does. She still wants him to understand. She still wants to make things right. "I love you." The words are heartfelt, so soft and vulnerable. And she realizes she should have said them more. But she didn't and she can't change the past. She can only accept that she destroyed her chance at bliss. All for a thin veil of security.

_**July 18th, 2017: Age 29**_

She didn't know if they would recover, but they do. There are fights and counseling sessions, tears and ice cream. There are heartfelt confessions and the uncovering of painful truths, but they survive. She loves him and he loves her. He wants to marry her.

She's mourning the loss of a baby that never was and she assumes he is as well, but in the midst of the sadness, there is also an inkling of hope. They will have a family. Not today, but someday. And now more than ever she realizes that the things she pushed away-the family, the dolls, the friends-were really the things she wanted most.

Later that night, when both are in bed, sweaty and sated, perfectly content, Toby pulls her closer, leaning her on his chest. "Our kid is going to be awesome." He says it so quietly, afraid to break the peace, but a lazy smile settles over her mouth at the comment.

"It's going to be the best kid ever." She chuckles at her choice of dialogue. They are words she is so unused to using, but they feel right.

"Don't call our future child an 'it.'" Toby shakes his head. "She's going to be a badass mechanic. Or dancer. Or doctor." He leans in to place a kiss in Happy's hair. "Anything she does will be badass."

Happy raises her eyebrows. "How do you know our child will be a she?"

"Father's intuition," he says, smirking. "Plus, I did go to Harvard."

"What's that have to do with anything?" Happy turns her head to glance upward at his eyes. "The med school card doesn't even apply."

"I like to brag sometimes." He smiles. "And our kid will definitely be a girl."

"If you say so." Happy rolls her eyes good naturedly.

"I say so."

_**January 3rd, 2020: Age 31**_

"She's perfect," Toby says, cradling his daughter's delicate, beanie-covered head. "I love her already."

"You better," Happy laughs before groaning in pain. "Hurt like a bitch."

"Happy! Tiny ears." Toby leans in to whisper in his daughter's ear. "Mommy needs to watch her language." She mutters a "hey!" He continues anyway. "But she's pretty amazing. You're going to love her. I know I do." He moves his lips to press a tiny peck on the baby's forehead, causing her to stir. Opening her eyes, her gaze flits around the room. "Well aren't you curious."

"She needs to eat." Happy motions for Toby to hand her their child. He settles her into Happy's open arms before sitting next to his wife, placing an arm around her shoulder. "This is going to take some getting used to," Happy says, guiding her daughter to latch.

Toby murmurs his assent, rubbing his fingers over Happy's shoulder. "She needs a name."

Happy nods, gently rocking the baby as tiny suckling noises begin to filter through the room. "Why did we wait until the last minute again?"

"Because we can't just give her a name! We have to let her choose the name."

"I know," Happy laughs, "Eidetic memory, remember? It's just, now she's here and we still have no names."

Toby shrugs. "Be patient." He turns to look at their little girl, thinking. "How about Ada?"

"Too old school."

"Olivia?"

"She's not an Olivia."

"Abby."

"Mean girl name."

Toby scoffs. "I knew a nice Abby."

"Well I didn't." Happy repositions her daughter to relieve some of the pressure on her arms.

"It's your turn." He sees Happy furrow her brows. "Not so easy, huh?"

"What about Mairin?" She nuzzles her head into his neck.

"That's…" Toby considers it, staring at their tiny angel, "perfect." He squeezes her side. "Mairin Grace."

Her heart soars at the tiny word. "I love you," she whispers.

"I love you, too." He looks at Mairin. "And you. I love you."

As Mairin finishes eating, Happy rests against Toby; she's in a little pain, but she's content. "I was right, you know." Happy grunts in question, comfortable and having almost been lulled to sleep in the silence. "She's a girl."

She doesn't fight him, only smiles and tucks herself further into him. This, she thinks, is a good life to live.

_**March 1st, 2023: Age 33**_

"I love you this much!" Mairin shouts, her arms open wide.

"Well I love you this much," Happy smiles, opening her arms wider.

Mairin tilts her head before laying down on the couch and spreading her arms and legs wide. "I love you this much."

Happy chuckles. "I love you," Happy says, inching closer, "this much!" She starts tickling her daughter, laughing along with her sweetheart. After a minute, Happy stops her attack, moving Mairin's legs and sitting down on the couch. Mairin cuddles into her mother's side. "You're the best, Mommy."

Happy's heart swells. "And so are you, Miss Mairin Grace."

She wasn't always like this. Learning to be a mom took time. Opening up and letting loose took time. But loving her family with all of her heart never did.

Her _family_. She likes to think there's no greater gift.

* * *

_"A mother's love for her child is like nothing else in the world. It knows no law, no pity, it dares all things and crushes down remorselessly all that stands in its path." ~ Agatha Christie_

**_Thanks for reading! Please let me know your thoughts :)_**


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